


Daybreak

by kuchi



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Friends to Lovers, New Relationship, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-02-05 04:11:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12786693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuchi/pseuds/kuchi
Summary: A free morning gives Korra and Asami time toexploretheir new relationship. Smut.





	Daybreak

**Author's Note:**

> this is shamelessly inspired by [this amazing 'verse ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8541466/chapters/19581724) ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Asami is a very careful kisser. Slow, but not hesitant. Pliant but by no means unsure of herself, and Korra thinks that it suits her perfectly, even as she’s acutely aware of how corny it is to be comparing her best friend’s personality to her manner of kissing. Well, whatever, it’s been a long 24 hours of not-seeing Asami, and it’s not like her brain is going to be thinking about anything else barely a week into their relationship.

Not that anything’s really _new_ except the kissing, and, well -

Right now, Asami is gathered in her arms, her lips against Korra’s slipping from a sweet morning kiss to something more passionate. Korra thinks it's only a matter of time until clothes come off, whatever that says about her confidence. Asami is wearing the same leggings and dressing gown as the last time she saw her, yesterday morning. A slew of approaching deadlines meant that Asami hadn’t come home until well after Korra was asleep last night, tired from her Wednesday of back-to-back swimming and hockey.

She doesn’t have class until 2 o’clock today, so she’s going to make the most of it.

Asami nudges Korra’s nose with hers gently. This is only the, what - third? - make out session since the weekend, when they had found themselves fumbling over confessions and secrets and feelings, but Korra already has a directory in her head of all of her little touches. Not that she's ever the type to sit and categorise, but there's something in the gentle, deliberate way Asami does it that inspires that kind of attention.

Asami presses her cheek into Korra’s languidly. She’s feeling affectionate, as ever, and Korra’s mind glows bright at the sudden thought that she might have unlocked now a hundred new ways to _receive_ Asami’s affection. She's holding Korra’s waist tight, arms wound all the way around in a delicious contrast to the softness of her lips. Korra leans in, almost unconsciously, until she’s unceremoniously pushing Asami into the mass of throws and cushions on the couch. She has never been more thankful for Asami’s rich-person-single-bed sized couch, and that's saying something.

Asami sighs softly at the impact, and the sound is an electric warmth in the back of Korra’s neck. She adjusts herself, winces in her half-sitting position, and then digs a small sketchbook out from behind her back with a laugh and gently throws it onto the coffee table beside them.

Korra’s running on three sips of tea, but she thinks breakfast can wait.

Her arms come up to the curve of Asami’s back, meeting a jutting shoulder blade encased in slippery plum-coloured satin. Asami blinks and lets her slip the dressing gown off her shoulders. She’s uncharacteristically silent in a way that surprises Korra, until she follows the direction of Asami’s passive gaze and realises she’s _literally staring_ at Korra’s breasts.

“Asami,” Korra laughs gently, feeling the blush in her cheeks.

“What?”

“When did you get home last night?”

“Oh, I- I don’t know, around eleven?” She looks startled at the change of subject, as it were, completely missing that Korra wanted to draw attention to her obliviousness. “I don’t think I’ve had enough sleep.”

 _I can tell_ , Korra wants to say, but she only smiles slyly. She resists the urge to waggle her eyebrows. “Want me to wake you up?”

“ _Oh?_ ” Asami’s eyes are bright.

Korra basks in the giggles that follow as Asami leans back, batting her eyelashes rapidly and flashing her an over-the-top seductive smile. A lock of sleep-matted hair flicks against her cheek, making a cosy picture. Korra’s skin jumps.

She doesn’t tell Asami that it completely, unironically has the intended effect. Instead, she readjusts herself until she’s straddling Asami. They’re kissing again, and her hands find Asami’s neck, tracing down the feather-soft skin over her collarbone. Their hips are glued hot against each other, and Korra grinds down unconsciously without meaning to. The next time they break apart to breathe, Asami’s eyes are glinting.

Korra’s hands leave the crevice of her neck reluctantly. She skims further down, following the spaghetti straps of her sleep shirt with her fingertips until she reaches the gentle slope of the fabric above her breasts. Her arousal spikes helplessly as her fingers meet Asami’s hardening nipples through the thin fabric, and she deliberately brushes them with her thumbs.

Asami moans softly under her breath in response, the sound against Korra’s ear making her throb between her legs already. She presses a palm against Asami's stomach, her waist, down the faint lines of her ribs, ears tuned all the way for a reaction. Asami doesn’t relent easy though, and quiets herself by pressing her perfect mouth to Korra’s neck. But her heart is beating fast now, skin heating up quickly and breath coming almost as a hum.

Korra lets her hands wander more, and she would peel the thin shirt off Asami’s body if that didn't involve moving Asami’s lips off her neck. She settles for pressing harder, firmer, until Asami is not so much breathing as emanating a constant stream of sighs.

All of Korra’s senses are flared up and taking notes. Feeling Asami like this - it’s completely new ground for her hands and her brain, the _delicateness_ , and she wonders briefly if this is a girl thing or an Asami thing. She decides it has to be Asami - Asami’s _body_ \- she notes with a flush, all the height and the spindling limbs not diminishing her softness even a little. That gorgeous, currently mouth-watering contradiction has to be Asami.

She presses her face deep into Asami’s neck, smells her day cream and the faint fruitiness of yesterday’s perfume. Asami’s hands are clammy and clasped sweetly around her waist, and she extracts them carefully in order to kneel beside her. Her hand glides to the jut of a hipbone, teetering on the edge of her waistband. Asami looks down and watches it resting there briefly; then she pushes it down with her own hand. Her eyes are blinking fast when Korra looks at her, her whole body threatening to writhe with barely-contained impatience, and it’s uncharacteristic enough that it jolts Korra into action.

She doesn’t need much help from Asami in pulling the leggings and her underwear down in one motion, fighting with the fabric against her ankle for the briefest second until they are shucked off the edge of the couch. Asami’s body is trembling slightly, but otherwise she seems dumb with surprise, or anticipation, or something, because she easily lets Korra handle her legs apart and get between them; not a comment or an objection or even an endearment in sight.

She’s just quiet with tension, _helpless_ with it - because of Korra?

Korra’s mind is surging, and there’s only one thing _on_ her mind. The slow, lavish things can wait for another time. She cups her hand boldly against Asami’s crotch and immediately Asami bucks up into it, a high sigh escaping her lips.

Korra’s fingers explore. It feels - wet. She could laugh at herself - well _duh_ , it’s supposed to be wet - but it _is_ , and _so much_ , and the reality of that is so much more arousing than she could have imagined. How can five minutes of ostensibly foreplay do this to her? How can Asami _exist_ right now, so sweet and hot and bothered and pliant for her? And maybe it’s a complete overreaction to just sex, or it’s too early in the morning, but Korra feels staggeringly like she’s just found a whole new world.

Korra breathes in her scent, the heady mix of her skin and her sex and weirdly even her _house_ making her brain fuzz; she kisses the crease of Asami’s leg, though really it’s already more like a struggle not to be shoving her nose into there. Her fingers come away slicker when she presses them gently into the folds again, and Asami makes a drawn out sound like a half-cry - and that's enough.

Well, making out is something she _knows_ she's excellent at. This can't be too different.

She kisses right up to Asami’s pussy, warmer, closer, with every movement of her lips and tongue, until her shuddering moans tell Korra she's exactly where Asami wants her to be. Korra presses her tongue hot against Asami’s clit, pulling her hips up until the angle lets Korra slip her fingers easily inside her. She’s so _wet_ and Korra’s so dizzy with the thought as she curls two fingers between her legs in one go. It’s a completely different angle to when she fucks herself, she realises - easier, better, and Asami makes a high sort of gasp, bucking into her hand keenly.  

She pulls herself close as possible, the sides of her face pressed hard against the dewy skin of Asami’s inner thighs, breathing in her scent until it fills all her senses. She thinks suddenly of how Asami had gone down on her, the day after their confessions - like she wanted to melt right into Korra, like Korra’s skin was air to breathe.

It's not a _competition_ , but there's a large part of Korra that definitely thrills in thinking that way. She puts her face to work, thoroughly.

Asami gasps when Korra’s nose nudges against her pubic bone; tries to press her knees together almost involuntarily against Korra’s shoulders, her legs shaking. Korra can’t help herself. She pries them apart, holds them there; not as gentle as she intended, but Asami’s staggering cry indicates she _really_ doesn’t mind.

It’s a messy affair, and Korra embraces it wholeheartedly. Asami’s silky thighs wrap around her head, and it’s like the position itself is closing up her brain, clogging up her consciousness, and _fuck_ \- it's just intoxicating. She’s literally _tasting_ Asami. The smell of her, the slick, unmistakable evidence of her pleasure, the cloying warmth of her damp skin. Her best and beautifulest friend writhing under her hands and her tongue, her perfect posture utterly broken, left sweaty and shaking because of her.

Korra heaves herself up, because she's slipping off the sofa in her daze, and pulls herself forward to wrap her arms right around Asami’s thighs. For a second she wants to just hold her there, warm breath an inch away, just shy of touching Asami’s skin - but she's struck dumb as Asami practically sobs - “Korra, _please_ ,” - tugging her hair, nudging her face back into her wetness.

Okay, so Korra can’t really do this slow teasing thing.

She doesn't miss a beat, and she's on Asami again, tongue and fingers working but it’s barely necessary - it's Asami’s relentless squirming that's really doing most of the work, and all Korra has to do is keep her mouth fixed there (like it’s hard), just keep up the same movement - until Asami cries out against her hand, so much rougher than before.

Korra gets her head out of there reflexively, because - well, she’s new at this, and Asami’s lack of control over herself right now wouldn’t bode well for her head _not_ getting crushed. Asami clamps her legs together, heaving with full-body shudders. Korra’s hand is still cupped hard, Asami’s hot skin squeezing it at every side. When Asami lets her go, she climbs up to her hips again, awkwardly, kissing her moaning mouth.  

Asami’s shudders are giving way to longer, feebler sighs, until she smiles up sleepily, cheeks red.

“How’s breakfast?” she grins, before dissolving into giggles, like she’s alarmed or amused by her own forwardness. Korra kisses her ridiculous and ridiculously warm face.

She’s not in that state of mind yet, though. She rocks herself alternately against her own hand and Asami’s hip, trying to get any pressure in the right place. Asami sees her plight and pushes Korra down, guiding her to slip her thighs around just one of Asami’s legs. Korra grinds right down into the broad pressure of her thigh, pulling herself tight against the throbbing pleasure the moment she feels it. Again and again, until the heat builds fast and prickling in her stomach. She’s fucking _rutting on Asami_ , she thinks distantly, and it’s outlandish and raw enough to send her into a small frenzy. She comes loudly with a long shiver.

Asami’s holding her hips, looking up at her silently, eyes flashing dark.

“You have anything to do this morning?” She breathes.

Korra’s head shakes no even before she’s finished talking.


End file.
